Simplicity
by CrazyEnough
Summary: "The bad end unhappily, the good unluckily, that is what tragedy means." [Newt/OC]
1. Tempus I

_You are surrounded by signs, she said_

–_Ignore none of them_

( ; Steve Erickson )

* * *

Before her eyes cracked open to reveal nothing but darkness she had one thought bouncing around in her seemingly empty brain; now of course that's a bit of an overstatement because her brain was full to bursting with memories like the starry night sky, the heavily accented cold of rain, the smell of pie, a home, a bike, cars, she could remember everything of a life that wasn't _really _hers because there were no names, no faces no _nothing… _not even her own name was amongst the knowledge she seemed to have, but the one thing that never ceased to cross her mind was the word _Una. _She knew it meant together in Latin, and she knew even better that Latin was a language and that she had extensive knowledge in this language, and in the English language and in the language called Mandarin but how on Earth was she multilingual when she couldn't even remember her own damn _name? _

But when the darkness did replace her dream state she began to move, first slowly as she felt the steel cold walls around her with shaking fingertips, the draft creeping up her spine as if a bug was making its way to the base of her neck where the hairs there began to stand on end in response. When she built up enough courage she tried to stand up, only to hit her head off another metal wall, or roof would be the more appropriate term, and have her knees buckle underneath her as she fell back to the identical metal floor. At that exact moment the box lurched upward, she guessed it was up anyway because the vertigo she experienced at that moment in time punched a hole in her stomach and had her retching in the corner of the box that she was currently trapped in. It took her maybe five minutes to rid of anything that might have been in her stomach before she found herself with half a memory, and only when her breathing slowed to a regular pace once more did she strain herself to begin counting down the seconds that passed.

Five minutes went by and the box didn't stop, didn't slow down nor did it speed up and this pace kept up for another twenty minutes, straight up and she idly wondered how far underground was she originally, and how on Earth did the lack of air pressure _not crush her?_ But then she thought there she goes again, thinking of something so intricate like air pressure with no memory of who she was or where she learnt about the concept of air pressure. Nothing made sense to her, and though she should have been screaming for help, crying out, banging her fists on the walls and doing her best to escape something deep in the recesses of her mind told her there was no use, she'd just have to wait for the box to bring her to wherever it was taking her; then she could figure out a plan, _then_ she could do something even mildly productive… hopefully.

When she came onto the forty ninth minute of upward coasting the box suddenly jerked her to the left, and she went flying with the momentum; basic physics she inquired idly, An object at rest stays at rest and an object in motion stays in motion with the same speed and in the same direction unless acted upon by an unbalanced force; and the momentum the box was exerting on her lower center force was the unbalanced force acting upon her. All this information running through her head wasn't necessarily going to help the pain shooting up her right shoulder however, when she hit the side of the wall. She called out at the contact, cradling her shoulder with her hand gingerly as her eyes subconsciously cast upwards where she noticed after squinting a whole lot there was a crack running the length of the roof of the box, and through the crack she could see the slightest dimming of light. This should have sent a shock wave of pure joy through her body, but all she felt was pain and confusion as she continued to squint through the shadows, not wanting to lose sight of this small sight of hope that there was an outside to the prison she'd found herself in.

Finally, thankfully the box came to a complete shuttering stop, hopefully its last stop. She couldn't hear anything but the groaning of its cables, and creaking of its metal that must be bending in response to the unusual spike in temperature that she felt crawl across her skin, she guessed that had to do with the light on the other side, it must be warm. With sheer curiosity and the inability to stay still any longer her fingers reached upwards towards the crack and before they could actually feel the split they were opening, revealing a blazing light that momentarily blinded her, her mouth hanging open in surprise and shock as she shielded her eyes with a hand. The moaning and creaking was replaced with whispers, _human _whispers, and a sort of buzzing but soon she came to her own conclusion that the buzzing was coming from her own ears because the human whispering wasn't whispering but loud shouting that had her totally confused and it was unbearable, because she couldn't hear properly nor could she stop shaking and when arms grabbed her biceps and began pulling her from the box she hoisted herself up with her own momentum, but not without having to scramble for a foot hole; falling to her hands and knees in front of a group of human figures standing around her in a semi-circle.

Blinking back the black spots that where swirling in front of her vision she came to see faces, male faces all around her, some smiling, others frowning – _especially _the dark skinned boy who stood directly in front of her, but the majority just seemed confused, mouths hung slightly open in shock just as hers was. Mustering the courage that broiled in her stomach but could hardly bare to surface she stood slowly on shaky legs, hands clenched by her sides as her bottom lip sucked in so she could chew on it as she thought, which she figured must be out of complete habit.

The words she heard next scared her, caused her to jump in surprise after the hush of the crowd had almost calmed her to a sort of serene thinking process,

"It's a shucking girl."

Then and there the word Una slipped from her mind, basic laws of physics and air pressure fled her thoughts, the pain subsided into a dull throbbing and the only thought that slipped past her consciousness was,

_What the hell does shucking mean? _


	2. Tempus II

_ I can't seem to write more than the start_

_ –Maybe because I'm afraid of the end?_

( ; Erotictruths)

* * *

"_Do you remember your name?" _

It was far off, small, the voice was bubbly as if it was speaking to her above water and she was slowing sinking beneath the opaque surface, her eyes where scanning the sights before her, taking in the sheer beauty and enormity of the world she'd come into as if being _rebirthed. _But the dread sitting just below the pit of her stomach told her not to get comfortable, and so the iron curtain fell and her steely gaze snapped towards the blond with a strange twang to his voice as he himself snapped his fingers in front of her face.

"Ya hearing a thing I'm saying girl?" She shook her head in response, and he sighed in obvious frustration, a scarred hand running over a dirt laden face, she could see the age in his blue eyes; he looked maybe sixteen, at least sixteen anyway but the wisdom that seemed to crease his features was enough to tell her that he wasn't anything like an immature teenage boy (What did she know about immature teenage boys anyway?) and even as she gazed around at the other eyes that stared on at her she knew they were just the same, they were all drowning in a sea of too much responsibility and she wondered _where are the adults? _

"So you _don't _remember your name?" Once again a quick shake of her head was her only response, she wasn't sure if she wanted to speak just yet, nor was she positive she was even capable of doing so. She was dehydrated, she didn't know how she knew this but the dry ache in her throat was evidence enough that she needed water, she was almost sure her voice wouldn't work if she tried using it, or at least well. The blond boy instead of getting frustrated at her lack of concentration again offered her his hand in greeting, and regardless of her wariness she shook it out of habit because she also knew _that's _how you greet people, by shaking their hand. "My name's Newt, don't worry about not knowing your name it'll come to you eventually. It's the only memory they let us keep."

At this mentioning of a 'they' she did pay attention, the question formed on her lips but did not spill outwards, however the curiosity in her eyes must have been enough for him because he held up his hands "All greenies want to know who 'they' are, but I'll let Alby fill you in on the dirty details." A raised brow from herself had the boy smiling impishly, and she figured that the look fit him quite well; and maybe she shouldn't trust him with sharp objects even if her life depended on it.

In the end through all of these random thoughts running through her head, and the whispers emanating from the crowd around her as they dispersed, slinking away with wary and suspicious stares she did not feel frightened, just incredibly confused. Especially when Alby, who she figured was the darker skinned boy with the permanent scowl, went running towards a rundown shack further up the large meadow like field after an ear splitting scream had burst from its quarters. Her head snapped up suddenly at the change in atmosphere; Newt just gestured for her to follow him with a swipe of his hand, doing his damned best to hide the worried look twirling beneath his blue eyes.

But she caught it.

"This place here is called the Glade, and we, with our big egotistical personalities call ourselves The Gladers-" Newt continued to narrate even after she stopped paying attention, waving his hands around animatedly, instead of listening she did what she guessed she did best; she watched, intrigued with the Gladers as they seemed to find the right place to be, like it was engrained in them; some were picking through fields of vegetables, and stalks, others where over in a far corner of the so called Glade building walls, lifting walls, hammering nails _into_ walls; there where Gladers running around doing nothing in particular but somehow still staying out of the way of those actually working and then and there it hit her… there were no adults, only kids. There were no g_irls, _only boys.

A million questions she wanted to ask, she wanted to know where they get their supplies, why they have goats and cows and pigs and turkeys and where did they come from? Outside the insane slabs of stones that surrounded the Glade maybe? Because it seemed to her, as far as she could see there where large slices in the slabs that opened up into large passageways but it all just seemed too impossible, _too _complicated. Why where there no girls? That circumstance totally explained the shock that seemed to be lacing through the Gladers like a slow crawling disease; but as well what the hell was she doing here?

Then Newt was snapping in front of her face again. She turned on him; pursing her lips in annoyance as her brows furrowed to show him just how irritated she was by his incessant _snapping, _why couldn't he just try talking to her instead?

"C'mon Greenie, why do you keep zoning out like tha'?" She was a little taken aback by the term 'Greenie' but let it slide as she only shrugged a shoulder in response, and his own brows furrowed as well. "Are ya' going to ever speak to us, or you just gonna keep shruggin' your shoulders and shakin' your head?" Opening her mouth to respond was the worst thing she could have done at that particular moment in time, because as she strained her voice box to speak words at the boy before her, _nothing _came out. She snapped her mouth shut, feeling the realization hit her like a brick in the face; it wasn't because she was dehydrated that she couldn't talk, it's because she's a _mute. _

He seemed to realize this fact sooner than she did, and his expression softened slightly "You're kiddin'?" He mumbled under his breath, and even though she was pretty upset at the prospect she was even more pissed that he was taking _pity _on her, she saw it in his slumped body language, the look in his eyes, the tone of his voice; god this kid was insufferable and she's only known him for what, fifteen minutes? Swiftly, and to her own ultimate surprise she shoved him in the shoulder, not with such force to knock him over but enough to grab his attention.

"What the bloody hell was that for?" He snapped, and she soon realized that maybe it wasn't the smartest idea; but hey, what can a girl do when she knows absolutely _nothing _about herself, she didn't realize she had impulsive tendencies. Yet still, she didn't back down as she clenched her fists by her sides and glared up at him, he cleared her over by at least five inches which was giving her a slight height complex in comparison, but she shrugged that off as she tried to get her message across with her eyes, and he must have gotten her gist because he backed off and pivoted on his heel, mumbling something about troublesome Greenie's; she stayed behind, a little at a lack for what she should do but finally he stopped in his tracks and turned to look over his shoulder at her, notching his head to the side pointedly.

"Well, ya' coming or what slinthead?"

She didn't know what the hell a slinthead was, but she followed anyway.


	3. Tempus III

_"I went out walking under the stars._

_ I had given up on the sun and the warmth of days. _

_I went out walking under the Prussian blue of night _

_ –and fell in love with the moon instead."_

( ; Corporalofthedamned )

* * *

Their sun was too bright, too hot, too overbearing. It was not the sweet honey warmth she remembered. During the day, as she walked around the Glade with Newt, taking in the scenery, meeting some of the nicer Gladers and just ridding her disassembled mind of anything more than what was in the moment her olive colored skin became sticky, when she turned to Newt to ask if there was a way to wash off the sweat and remembered sullenly she couldn't talk she thought she was doomed to be a sweaty pig for the rest of the day, but instead Newt took into count her attempting to tell him something and leant down, pointing towards a patch of loose dirt by the gardens and immediately she knew what he was offering her.

She asked him through writing, she didn't even realize she had the ability to write; the prospect had her smiling with contentment. When he directed her to a small crystalline pool of water just outside the batch of trees he called the dead heads, she smiled once again thankfully. He bid her farewell for a moment, pronouncing to her as if reassuring her (she didn't need reassurance, she was _fine_) he'd be back soon enough, he was just going to grab some things. She waved him off, once again barely listening to a word he had said. When she knelt by the bank of the water, feeling the cool waves lap up against her fingertips she stared at her reflection, surprised and taken aback at what she saw staring back at her.

Eyes the color of copper wire, a sort of metallic brown and skin she knew to be olive like in complexion but totally void of any scars; she had a round face, sunken cheeks that her chin filled out quite well and her hair was the deepest of chestnut browns, braided over her shoulder with a small red ribbon wrapped around the tail of the braid. She wore a simple black long sleeved shirt that was made out of extremely thin material and brown shorts that hid her wide hips; underneath she knew she was wearing undergarments so there was no questioning that, her feet where simply clad in a pair of plain black running shoes. She figured she must have dressed herself before entering the box, because she liked what she saw. Through looking over herself more intensely, she found that the only reason she was surprised at her own reflection was because she wasn't ugly, nor was she gorgeous… she was plain, and she found she rather enjoyed the _simplistic _way she looked.

When Newt had returned, jogging towards her with a canteen of water and what she guessed where sandwiches in hand she was finished cleaning off her skin, and instead resorted to splashing her feet against the water, enjoying the feel and just enjoying the quiet that surrounded her; in the distance she could hear the many voices of Gladers, the shuffling and the bustle but it was muffled and she found she liked it that way. She still knew they were there so she wasn't alone, but she didn't have to interact. It was becoming her favorite place already, which was odd seeming she'd only been in the Glade for a couple hours.

After she had gulped down half the water in the canteen greedily, and began nibbling at the sandwich (Her stomach still a little queasy from being in the box only an hour or two before) Newt turned to her and began talking once again, obviously distracted.

"I have to go help Alby with some stuff, I want you to find Minho; Shank's probably back by now, and he will show ya' where you can sleep." Though she wanted to ask what Minho looked like, or where Minho was coming back from, or what Shank meant she knew there was no way to write all of it down fast enough when Newt looked pretty impatient and antsy enough as it was, so she just nodded her head and let him leave; she'd just have to figure it out on her own, and possibly sooner than later because as she turned back to her small pond after Newt had disappeared over the hill that separated the dead heads from the rest of the Glade she realized the sun was slowly crawling down the horizon.

When she made it back to the central area of the Glade, slowly but surely because she was really starting to enjoy the silence, she watched as everyone began to settle down, some pulling out of the benches by the run down shack in the far corner with plates and cups in hand, she made a mental note on that because that's probably where they all eat. Other's where already fast asleep, probably those guys who were hammering away at those walls today; and despite her observations she had no clue where to start looking for this so called Minho. She thought maybe if she could write something in the dirt, she could find Zart who Newt had introduced her to earlier as a Keeper and get him to help her out but thought against it as soon as she heard a gravelly voice she didn't recognize call from just behind her.

"Minho!" She cast a quick glance over her shoulder, seeing a boy cross the field, a little too far away for her to distinguish his features, he was waving frantically but in a stiff sort of way which she then figured he was pretty pissed, coming from his body language and all. Standing directly in front of him about three yards further away was another boy, _bingo, _she thought in her head, the smallest of triumphant smiles crawling its way up her features. This time around she didn't stop to ask herself what _bingo _was; instead she started to walk at a brisk pace towards the Glader known as Minho.

He looked a little worried with the angry boy coming in on his North side, and the new Glader girl coming in on his East, but other than his slightly confused expression he stayed where he was. The angry Glader got to him first, but that didn't stop her as she came right up to Minho, listening to their conversation as she approached.

"What do you want Gally?" Minho asked with such an exasperated tone that it was hard to believe he hadn't exaggerated it, as if he was used to people being angry at him. The angry boy who she now knew to be Gally huffed in response; and not the sort of cute, I'm frustrated huff but the I'm going to huff and puff and blow your house down, big bad wolf with scary sharp teeth kind of huff. As they continued arguing about the process of building some sort of extra building for the Glade she herself became lost in thought over the derivative of the expression she'd just used to describe Gally's reaction, for herself. She could remember the story clearly however she could not remember what is was called nor who had read it to her –it was a surreal experience to say the least.

"Hey… hey you!" She jumped at the sudden change in tone coming from Minho, he was addressing her now and for a moment she just stared at him, taking in his features. He was Asian, and she wondered how she knew that but the thought was just brushed off to the side; he was a little taller than her, maybe by a couple inches and he had square, not all that handsome but not too bad looking either features. Soon she broke into a polite smile after realizing she was being creepy and extended her hand out to him. Gally had disappeared farther up the field, obviously not patient enough to deal with a whole conversation with Minho. Minho grasped her hand in his, shaking it. "You're the new Greenie right? What's your name?" She opened her mouth to respond once again but then made a sort of laughing gesture, as if laughing at herself for being ridiculous once more; she knelt to the ground, grabbing a tiny stick that sat by her foot and wrote in the dirt a simple reply-

_Don't have one yet, Newt said you could help me with sleeping arrangements? _

Minho looked positively confused at first whilst reading the message she'd inlaid into the dirt, but soon came to the conclusion Newt had hours before and nodded his head briskly, turning around as he began to walk.

"Yeah, sure c'mon." and so she did follow him, having to step over sleeping boys as he lead her through the thick of the drifting figures, the moon was following behind the sun by now as if they were attached by a string and as she sun set, the moon rose and the last bit of light was disappearing with the transition; and then _it _happened.

An inhuman bang shook the whole Glade, it felt like an earthquake and it shook her off balance. A sort of screeching sound like stone on metal began to fill the entirety of the small rectangle area they were in; she instantly tensed in response, looking over to where she could see movement as she watched the splits in the tall stone walls cover themselves with… doors? Minho stood by her side, watching her intently as she witnessed it all with wide eyes, he only grinned in response.

"The doors close every night, Alby will explain more to you tomorrow on the tour." Nodding her head simply in response because Newt had told her the same thing, about how Alby would explain it all later. She only wondered why on Earth the doors would close. As she followed Minho the rest of the way to the slanted building she'd first seen upon entering the Glade she let her mind ponder this; there were two things doors where primarily used for, keeping things in and keeping things out; so which was which inside the all mighty Glade? For some strange reason, she _really _didn't want to know.

As they entered the front door the rest of the Gladers where filing in one by one, choosing spots on the floor, some on the stairs that led to an upper level of the wooden building and so on; most she noticed slept outside in the grass or in hammocks hanging by trees, but Minho led her straight to a private square on a loft type level of the rather deceivingly large building that looked like nothing but a ragged shack on the outside. In this small patch of room where two blankets and another smaller blanket hunched up in a makeshift pillow. Above her head was an open paned window that held the night sky perfectly, like a portrait.

She looked at Minho, eyebrows raised as if asking, _all this for me? _

He only snorted, nodding his head in response "A little over kill if you ask me, but the boss' orders must be followed. Get some sleep; you'll have to get up early tomorrow. See you Greenie." As Minho scooted his way down the ladder/stairs that led up to the small square of unsettling swaying loft, she laid down on the blanket, covering herself with the other and staring out at the sky upside down through the window. The stars winked at her, the moon hung in the sky like her own private lantern, and she wondered why she couldn't find any of the constellations she had bouncing around in her head in this particular night sky, however this not being her last thought of the night as she drifted off into a not so peaceful abyss it came to her.

_My name is Duffy._

* * *

**A/N: **So most of you are probably thinking, what famous chick is named Duffy? Well, the irony is thick because I named my OC off of Oliva R. Duffy, one of the many Queens of the Silent Films; because Duffy is essentially a mute, and Oliva R. Duffy as an actress was never given a voice because of the age she lived in I thought it to be sort of fitting?


End file.
